


cause the chase is all you know (and you stopped running months ago)

by PassionateKey



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionateKey/pseuds/PassionateKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finally catches Bucky. Or more like Bucky lets him. These are some glimpses into Bucky's sorta recovery and letting the real recovery start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cause the chase is all you know (and you stopped running months ago)

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by nicedaybucky on tumblr, and a particular comic (#12 - An eye for an eye), so go check them out because their art/comics are great and they'll make you feel a multitude of things.

**April 2015**

Steve finds him standing at the edge of the building looking about the city below them, and as much as he wants to make a run for it he doesn't.

"Bucky?"

It comes out broken and he wills his body not to react.

He wills his body not to react, his legs not to run, his hands not to reach for his knife, all while Steve moves towards him slowly.

"Bucky?"

He feels the ache radiating off of Steve as he steps up behind him. It's now or never.

"I'm tired Steve." his voice sounds foreign to his ears. "I...I'm ready to stop running."

 _I'm ready to go home_ , is what Steve hopes he means, but James isn't sure what home is anymore.

 

**May 2015**

"I don't know Steve, we can't force him to recover if he doesn't want to. Even if you talk about those days with him it won't make him remember." 

He hears the hushed whispers behind him but doesn't make to move. Instead he continues to look out the window and ignore Steve's pained expression. Some days it's too much for him to look at such a holy face. 

"Look I think you should go home. I'll stay here with Barnes while they look over his vitals. Make sure he's okay."

He hears the shuffling and knows Steve wants to fight it, but after a while the footsteps fade and the slam of a door echoes in the small room.

He wills his body not to react.

A throat is cleared behind him.

"Thank you Sam." his voice is stiff and he continues to look out the window at nothing.

"You're an asshole you know that right?"

He shrugs. "I'm the Winter Soldier, hurting people is what I do."

Sam lets out a bitter laugh behind him, then walks over and plops down on the chair in front of him.

"If you didn't want this then why'd you let him catch you?"

He looks at Sam but doesn't answer. They spend the rest of the time until the doctors get there and when they leave so does Sam.

He doesn't sleep.

 

**June 2015**

His living space is pretty bare. It's mostly filled with bookshelves and a bed he doesn't use. Every time the archer Natalia cares for so much visits he brings him new books. Most of them are ridiculous and not even worth the read but they fill up the shelves slowly.

He starts to order his own. Ones about birds and photography and Steve.

He has every book ever written about Steve.

And then there's the desk in his room. The one that is purely used to stash all the journals he has. Natalia gave him a pack of ten as a recovery gift. Sam brings him pens every time he visits. Steve doesn't know about them.

They started off as a Winter Soldier thing. His handlers would give him one for every missions, to record what he's seen and done. To keep him on a shorter leash.

When he was on the run they became a way to sort through the onslaught of memories.

Now they're some form of therapy. His assigned doctor makes him keep them. 

He never shares what's in them. The nightmares, the memories, the dreams, the thoughts. They take up lines and pages and they're so many of them, he isn't sure how else to cope with them.

 

**July 2015**

He wakes up in sweat clutching the sheets beneath him. 

That fucking dream again. 

With Steve falling into the river.

"I didn't save you that time." His voice is rough as it cuts through the darkness in the room.

"You will next time." A voice responds back, tired.

 

**August 2015**

The whispering gets annoying about five minutes in, and he thinks about making a run for it, but Stark's son walks back into view before he can execute it.

He sighs.

"Look I promise not to prod or poke anything that you don't give me permission to okay? I just want to..look at it."

He huffs unconvinced. 

"You mean you want to study it."

Tony doesn't respond, instead plops down on the stool in front of him.

"It's detachable. I know enough about it to keep it running and from overheating. It's part of who I am. It aches and pains like any arm does. And like any weapon it only becomes one if you make it one."

He keeps looking ahead but he can sense the tension in the room. 

"Is this you giving me permission to look at it?"

He sighs.

"It's me telling you that while I am the Winter Soldier, I'm also just a man with something created to be a weapon attached to his body. And you, aren't you also just a man underneath that metal suit?"

 

**September 2015**

He's sitting on the bench when they come around the corner and the way Steve stops suddenly at the sight of him is almost comical.

"I see you guys run past here everyday from my apartment. Did you know you can see directly into one of my windows from here? That must just be some hell of a coincidence right?"

Sam clears his throat and gives Steve a pointed look.

"Don't look so guilty Rogers, I was just gonna ask you guys if I could join you today."

 

**October 2015**

He hits the ground with a loud thud, but instead of pain it's relief that fills his body. His muscles ache with the familiar pull of excretion and he feels calmer then he has in the months since his capture.

"That all you got old man?"

The taunt comes from across the room where Natalia is bouncing on the balls of her feet, a murderous grin on her face.

He grunts and pulls himself up, smirking as he gets himself into position.

"I could do this all day."

 

**November 2015**

Nothing but the sounds of dishes clattering and forks hitting ceramic can be heard in the room. Occasionally Sam looks like he might say something about how ridiculous the silence is but then decides not to after Steve's glare.

Eventually even the silence becomes too much for him.

"I..I remember I taught you how to throw a punch."

He hears the clatter of Steve's fork and the air in the room suddenly feels like it's been sucked out. He refuses to look up from his meal.

"We were, sixteen? And you Knew how to scrap but you always managed to hurt yourself more then whatever they did to you. I was tired. Of cleaning up blood. I always knew you could take care of yourself but I wanted to make sure you were completely prepared."

He stops to take a breath, he dares look up at Steve but his broken face is too much pressure so instead he looks at Sam.

"I taught you how to close your fist, where to position your thumb. I made you practice it in front of me. Then I told you to punch me. I wanted to make sure you were putting enough force into it."

He swallows, hands clenched on the table. Same looks over at Steve and then nods at him to continue.

"You wouldn't. You refused. I had to rile you up, had to push and push and push-until eventually..It hurt like hell and blood got on everything and you felt so guilty that for a month afterwards you carried my books to school."

He closes his eyes.

"I was just happy you were gonna be okay."

 

**December 2015**

It had been Natalia's idea to teach him how to knit, she had claimed it had helped her through her recovery, and of course her archer had to come alone because he had been the one to teach her. He really wasn't too fond of the idea of spending time with either of them but after they'd been at it for a couple of hours he found that knitting actually calmed him.

When he finishes his first scarf he calls up Steve, he's not sure when sharing things with him because important, but it is.

Steve comes over that night and when they sit in his dark apartment, cold beers in hands, he confess to Steve that it felt nice to use his hands to create even if it was for something as unimportant as a knitted scarf.

Steve takes that scarf home that morning and wears it the rest of winter.

 

 

**January 2015**

The smell of the room triggers him and when he comes back too he's breathing heavily and the arm of the wooden chair is split in-between his fingers. Steve is telling him some story about a time when they went to a baseball game and he got them kicked out for fighting and then the beating of his heart slows down and it's over.

When Steve's done telling him his story he continues on with the next one until his voice grows raspy and James helps him take a drink of water from the cup the nurse left at his bedside.

"It was the smell, it reminded me of the lab they used to patch me up in."

Steve nods but doesn't say anything, lets him chose to continue or to stop.

"You're an idiot," he says instead.

Steve at least pretends to look ashamed and James doesn't tell him about the feeling of nausea that build at the bottom of his throat at seeing him lying there looking helpless.

 

**February** **2015**

There are tears streaking his face and he wonders what his old handlers would think of their mighty weapon here, now, blubbering like a child. He hopes they would choke and die.

Steve is standing in front of him, looking unsure of every decision he's ever made in the past 90 years.

Once again he refuses to look him in the eye.

"I don't-I don't know how to help you...if you don't want to be helped James."

It's the first time he's called him that since he got back and it's so quiet that he almost doesn't hear him say it.

"I just want you to be okay."

It's broken and tired and he knows Steve feels the same way he does inside, even if he doesn't let anyone else see it.

"I'm dangerous."

He chokes it out and more tears stream down his face and when he finally looks up at Steve he notices that Steve's crying too.

Steve chuckles a little, as he looks down at the shield on his arm and then back at him.

"So am I."

 

**March 2015**

"According to all the books his-my, my birthday was today."

Steve shifts from his place on the couch.

"Is that why you were crying earlier?"

Steve shifts again, before setting his book down and leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

"How old would I be today?"

"Uhm, 98? But.. you, when you died, or when you fell off the train, you were only 27."

He nods.

"Wow, almost a hundred. We're getting pretty old."

Steve looks him over and cracks what seems to be a smile.

"I uh, well I bought you some cupcakes actually.."

He tries not to look too surprised.

"I wasn't you know, sure if you wanted to and-well they're your favorites, or what used to be your favorites and I just thought maybe-"

He stands up suddenly and begins to walk to the kitchen. He churns around when he doesn't hear Steve following him.

"I really hope you didn't bring any candles, cause no way we can fit 98 on those little things without somethin catchin fire."

 

**April 2016**

They're sitting on the edge of the roof of Steve's apartment and it smells like summer. He squints up at the sun, enjoying how it warms his skin. 

It's been a year since his capture and for the first time since his recovery started the tightness in his chest is gone.

"Tell me more about the summer we spent down in Jersey."

Steve looks over a bit confused.

"I don't really remember the why or the how..I just have glimpses of you slathering yourself with sunscreen and laying on the beach and how happy we seemed..."

Steve smiles, reaching behind him and pulling out two beers.

"Ok..but you know we could go back there some day, make some new fresh memories for you to remember."

He smiles, thinking the idea over.

"I think.. I think I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> again title is inspired by your heart is an empty room//dcfc, though the actual lyrics are cause the chase is all you know and she stopped running months ago


End file.
